


Precious Thing

by heliodor



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Double Entendre, Explicit Consent, Love, M/M, Sexual Roleplay, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 16:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heliodor/pseuds/heliodor
Summary: Aziraphale invites Crowley over for a special treat in celebration of completing a personal project.No matter how many books Aziraphale obtains for his collection, Crowley will always be his most precious thing.





	Precious Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I meant for this to be a short oneshot while I took a break from writing a chaptered thing but then it grew about triple the size I'd intended. That's life I guess.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said casually as if he hadn’t arrived only two minutes after Aziraphale rang him up asking if he’d come to the bookshop. 

Aziraphale kindly did not comment on that, only smiled his most pleased close-lipped little smile. He would never get over the elation of being able to call Crowley up at any time of day and ask anything at all. They could spend time together now whenever they wished. Openly! In public if they wanted! There was no more need for clandestine meetings at parks full of spies or abandoned spaces with code names Aziraphale could never remember. No more need to stand and sit carefully apart and try to keep conversation strictly steered towards business.

They were never any good at avoiding mixing business with pleasure anyway. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said. He fluttered his hands about because he didn’t know what to do with them, aborting an attempt to reach up to straighten his own already perfect bowtie and settling on reaching them both out for Crowley to sort out.

To his credit Crowley accepted them with only a raised eyebrow. 

Aziraphale’s tone turned more serious as he repeated that most beloved name and prepared to lay out his request, “Crowley, my dear, do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Crowley answered immediately, and then a touch warily (as if remembering the Hot Pepper Incident of 2013) added, “Why?”

“I was wondering if you would like to engage in…. A little playacting. Of an amorous variety,” Aziraphale explained very tactfully.

“Playacting... ? Of… Oh! You mean you want to roleplay!” Crowley’s amused half-smile widened into a full on lascivious grin. “Oh, angel, I didn’t know you had it in you. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise. You need only be yourself and play along as you wish, and I will take care of you. The usual safewords should be sufficient as I don’t intend to, er, impede your ability to speak in any way. I thought this might be a nice way to celebrate finishing my restoration project since I always need to send you away for being too distracting.” Aziraphale managed to muster up a stern look despite how positively drippy he felt just standing together after only a few days apart. Once upon a time they hadn’t seen each other for centuries at a time. _Centuries._ Imagine!

“It’s not my fault you look so hot when you’re concentrating.” Crowley used their linked hands to reel Aziraphale in for a kiss. 

They may have lost a few moments just kissing, but to be fair kissing was probably one of the greatest human inventions of all. 

What wasn’t there to like?

Kissing engaged all of Aziraphale’s senses. First, there was the obvious touch in the feel of Crowley’s lips soft against his and Crowley’s shirt stretched over warm, firm flesh under his fingertips as he slid his hands up Crowley’s waist. Taste and smell as Crowley opened up to let Aziraphale deepen the kiss, too intoxicated by the heady mix of woodsmoke, lush growing things, and some indefinable musk that comprised Crowley’s scent to be able to resist the urge to chase after Crowley’s sweetness. Then there were the sounds: the whisper of skin on skin as Crowley reached up to cup Aziraphale’s face in both hands, the little sighs and hitches of breath they both swallowed, a clatter as Crowley hastily snatched his sunglasses off and carelessly tossed them aside, the wet sounds of lips parting and coming together in that peculiar, human caress Aziraphale had come to love so much.

Sight, as far as Aziraphale was led to believe, wasn’t considered much of a part of kissing usually, but he liked to keep his eyes open when he hadn’t seen Crowley in awhile. He loved being close enough to count Crowley’s individual eyelashes, to see the delicate veins under his skin.

“Hey, didn’t you want to do something to me?” Crowley mumbled against Aziraphale’s lips. “Because this is nice, but, well, it’s just more of what we usually do isn’t it?”

“Hm?” Aziraphale blinked rather eloquently before he remembered. “Oh! You’ve distracted me!”

Crowley hid his smile against Azirahale’s shoulder.

“You seem very pleased with yourself,” Aziraphale observed archly. He absently rubbed a hand up and down Crowley’s back. “I’d like to get started if you’ll behave, but I need your explicit consent you know, my dear.”

“I agree to your terms,” Crowley simpered. Though his tone was a little mocking, Aziraphale could see the sincerity in his eyes when they pulled apart.

“You’re making fun of me.” Aziraphale reached up to trace the smug line of Crowley’s mouth with his thumb.

“I would never!” Crowley lied.

This Aziraphale ignored so as to not waste any more time in good-natured bickering back and forth. He fully pulled away from Crowley and started for the stairs to the loft where he had everything for the evening prepared. When he looked back Crowley was still standing in the closed bookshop.

“What are you waiting there for?” Aziraphale asked. “I’m expecting a very important delivery. I need to get prepared.” 

“What kind of delivery?” Crowley asked as caught up in a few strides and followed Aziraphale up the stairs and into the kitchenette.

Aziraphale pretended to consider it as he washed his hands at the sink to remove any oils that might be on his corporation’s skin. Once he dried off he reached into a bag that he’d set on the counter to pull out a pair of white cotton gloves. Those were just an extra precaution. He wasn’t sure if they’d be necessary or not yet, but he thought Crowley might like them.

“A very rare manuscript. I won’t know exactly what it is until I’ve had a look at it, but I believe it’s a novel,” Aziraphale explained. He gestured for Crowley to follow him to the cosy little bedroom which Aziraphale had previously used as a storeroom for cobwebs until starting up a new dimension of his relationship with Crowley. Now, however, with the curtains drawn tightly closed, Crowley’s plants temporarily moved to another room, and most everything else tidied and hidden away for once, the room looked almost unidentifiable from the love nest where Aziraphale and Crowley held each other some nights.

Crowley stared at the stark white cotton sheets on the bed where once there had been soft tartan flannel. “And what kind of novel would that be?”

“Again, I’m not sure yet, but I have my theories. Based on what information I could gather, I think it’s a romance novel or rather a work of romantic fiction to be precise. It’s a marvelous discovery, my dear! I believe that it predates Samuel Richardson’s _Pamela_.”

“Mhm.” Crowley nodded. “Old book. Got it. So where is the package?”

“Where is the package?” Azirphale parroted back, spinning in a slow circle to look around the clean room before turning back to Crowley. “Oh, you’re making fun of me again. Why didn’t you say you have it?”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth quirked up, and it didn’t look nearly as cooly enigmatic when Aziraphale could see his eyes go soft with fondness. “You know me. Wily. Let’s see this old book then.”

“Don’t be too hasty!” Aziraphale chided as he walked over to the wardrobe. “I need the right supplies to make sure I don’t accidentally damage the manuscript. Old books are incredibly fragile, you know. Ah.” Aziraphale pulled a stack of foam wedges out of the closet and carried them over to the bed. 

When Crowley frowned in confusion he explained, “This is a book cradle and some additional wedges to help support the book and prevent damage to the spine. Just in case the binding is a little tight I’ve got…” Aziraphale crossed back over to the wardrobe to find the wrist restraints he could attach to the bar they’d mounted discreetly behind the headboard. “Yes! Here it is. These are book weights to help keep the book open while I read without having to apply excessive pressure. There’s just one more thing.” Aziraphale paused to lift a thin piece of satiny cloth that may or may not have started life as a blindfold that he’d set on a pillow on the bed. He’d thought about using paper but he didn’t think that would have felt as nice. “A bookmark to help follow along the lines without having to touch the book more. I know it’s fussy. I’ve already cleaned my hands and put on these gloves, but I want to make sure I don’t damage the book on accident. It’s very precious.”

Crowley swallowed, but his voice was still thick when he asked, “Is it?”

Aziraphale nodded as he crossed the room to stand in front of Crowley. He gently, oh so gently rested his hands on Crowley’s chest on top of his clothes with the very lightest pressure. “It’s so precious to me. I’m sure it’s the only one of its kind that exists. I’m so glad I found it.”

“Oh,” Crowley breathed.

“Yes, well, let’s have a look at it shall we? I’m going to remove the book from its protective box and get it set up now.”

Crowley stayed absolutely still as Aziraphale carefully undressed him piece by piece. Although it was hard to resist brushing a hand against Crowley’s skin unnecessarily in the process, Aziraphale was very careful not to touch him even once. It wouldn’t do to break the professional facade too soon and ruin the whole act before Aziraphale got Crowley properly worked up.

Once he was naked Aziraphale bent to press one hand to the small of Crowley’s back and one to the back of his knees before deftly lifting him in a bridal carry.

Now that the scene was set, and Crowley, the clever thing, had caught on to what was happening, it was time for the fun part.

Aziraphale carefully laid Crowley down in the middle of the bed with his head firmly pillowed. He locked one wrist up in a restraint, testing the tightness of the cuff and the slack in the rope for security and comfort before taking his time walking over to the other side of the bed to repeat the process.

He found that diving into a good book find for real was somewhat akin to what he felt diving into exploring Crowley (and that had been the inspiration for the night’s activities). Except a book, no matter how interesting, could not look up at him with curious eyes. No book could look as small and vulnerable completely laid bare out of the clothes and accessories they’d carefully chosen to maintain their image. Book were just books after all. Their ideas were already recorded, unchangeable; the being Aziraphale knew as Crowley on the other hand was constantly being written before his very eyes.

Crowley was already half hard with anticipation.

Aziraphale touched just below his dick as he ran two fingers between Crowley’s thighs to part them slightly. He got a hand under one of Crowley’s knees to lift it at a better angle while gently pulling Crowley’s legs apart wider so he could easily see everything he might want to touch. A foam wedge went under Crowley’s leg to keep it at the angle Aziraphale wanted it with his knee bent. Again, Aziraphale took his time walking around the bed to give Crowley’s other leg the same treatment, adjusting them both with a little additional height as he saw fit. 

“So what do you think?” Crowley’s voice came out a little hoarse. “Is it everything you expected?”

Aziraphale ran a gloved hand up Crowley’s bare side. “Everything I expected and more, my dear. Everything and more.”

Crowley shuddered.

Aziraphale ran his hands up Crowley’s arms from the shoulder to the wrist to surreptitiously check the cuffs again and make sure they weren’t too tight. He took his time mapping out the lines on Crowley’s palms, testing the way each of his fingers bent, before grabbing the fake bookmark and moving to the end of the bed.

“I’m very pleased to announce that the book looks to be in excellent shape,” Aziraphale said as he draped his bookmark over Crowley’s ankle and started dragging it up his leg.” A bit of sun damage perhaps but nothing major. There are no loose pages. The cover and spine are both perfectly intact. If I didn’t know better I would think it was a fake. Some kind of modern reproduction. There are little touches that point toward the truth. This book is just very well made.”

Crowley shuddered again at the feeling of soft cloth sliding up his thigh. “Skim, er, skimming through the pages are you now? Bit naughty working your way back from the end.”

“Just wanted to make sure there was a happy ending. You know I like them.” Aziraphale slowed the slide of the cloth as he reached Crowley’s groin. 

“And is there?” Crowley’s voice nearly came out as a squeak as Aziraphale used the cloth strip to pin his erection to his belly without touching his penis at all. It was the barest tease of friction before Aziraphale released it to continue on his way up to Crowley’s collarbone.

“Oh yes,” Aziraphale said, taking particular care to veer to the side so he’d drag his cloth over one of Crowley’s nipples. “A very happy ending. Bit of a racy section in the middle as well. I know _you_ like those. I’ll read an excerpt aloud for you when I get back to it if you wish.”

“I think,” Crowley closed his eyes for a long moment. “I think it should be safe to touch the book with your hands. Since it seems strong enough. You don’t need a bookmark.”

Aziraphale obediently set aside the fake bookmark. He took a moment to look down the long line of Crowley’s body, letting himself feel a heady rush at the fact that he was still completely clothed, actually more clothed than usual considering gloves were no longer quite in fashion anymore, while Crowley was nude and spread for his pleasure. 

“There’s no rush. It’s a beautiful book. They really knew how to make them in the old days.” Aziraphale slid his hand into Crowley’s hair and held on just hard enough to keep his head in place when Crowley tried to turn away. “Oh, now this won’t do.”

Crowley moaned. “What?”

Aziraphale grabbed the extra pillows that usually lived on the bed and used them to prop Crowley’s head up in place so he couldn’t easily move it. Crowley had no choice but to stare up into Aziraphale’s eyes and his own serpentine slit pupils blew so wide the yellows of his irises were nearly invisible.

“There.” Aziraphale petted down the hair he’d grabbed. “My book was slipping. I must not have picked out the right supports. Lucky I had these display pillows on hand.”

“Lucky,” Crowley rasped out.

“Lovely gilded edges…” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s hair once more. “I’m sorry, my dear, am I boring you?”

Crowley’s eyes snapped open. “N-no. I. Tha’s’nice. Tell me more.”

Aziraphale hummed uncertainly, but he continued on tracing light fingers over Crowley’s forehead, his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose, across his cheekbones. He thumbed at the snake mark branded on Crowley’s skin to look like a tattoo and let out a small, theatrical gasp.

“Could this be?” Aziraphale leaned closer to look at the mark. “Yes, I think it is! This copy is signed by the author!”

Aziraphale let his hands continue their journey down Crowley’s body to trace along his jawline, his neck, his shoulders, and lower. He commented all the way about how beautiful Crowley was, how delicate. His precious thing. His treasure.

Crowley whined. He squirmed in place until Aziraphale stopped touching him for moving. That was beautiful too. Aziraphale loved seeing Crowley's need plain on his face. They'd spent so long denying themselves, denying what they wanted that it felt so much sweeter just to take knowing Crowley would give Aziraphale whatever he wanted. 

Aziraphale wanted Crowley. He wanted Crowley to feel how deep that desire ran.

"According to my reading, this is the story of a demon. Apparently some thought him a bit of a wastrel but he was actually very clever and very brave," Aziraphale reported as he finally wrapped his hand around Crowley's erection, squeezing at the base a little as Crowley cried out. "Hush now, dear. Stay still. I have a very valuable book here."

"Aziraphale." Crowley moaned. He trembled with the effort of doing as he was told so Aziraphale took pity on him.

Aziraphale took off one of his gloves to wrap his bare hand around Crowley's dick, letting his thumb slide over the head on the upstroke. He wanted to taste Crowley's ragged sounds, but it wasn't time yet. He had to finish the story.

"There I've taken off one of my gloves for more manual dexterity. The pages are very fragile in this section. I'll have to be very careful." He explained as he moved slowly, tracing the veins that stood out against Crowley's shaft, the shape of the head, the shape of his balls pulled taut. "Oh, this is interesting."

"What?" was all Crowley could manage. Aziraphale hoped the poor dear wasn't too overwhelmed, but trusted he would say if he was.

Aziraphale wasn’t planning on taking Crowley into his mouth, but he leaned in close enough for Crowley to feel his breath as he sped up his pumping with the same level of excitement as when he blazed through a particularly interesting passage in a book for the first time. Crowley was biting his lip when Aziraphale smiled up check his reaction, so Aziraphale pressed a knuckle against Crowley’s perineum to make him cry out and stop damaging Aziraphale’s find.

“The demon did something no other demon had done before. He fell in love with an angel.” Aziraphale carefully moved from his place by Crowley’s side to kneel between his legs without touching him. He needed a better angle to watch Crowley. “And the angel loved him back. Loved him so dearly.”

“Angel,” Crowley gritted out. “I’m—I.”

“Oh, don’t hold back on my account, darling. Let go when you’re ready, my love,” Aziraphale uged.

So Crowley did. In thick spurts that streaked up across his belly and chest, even reached his own chin a little bit. Aziraphale stroked him through it until he went whiny with sensitivity.

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale said as he leaned back in satisfaction. He did so enjoy seeing Crowley thoroughly debauched. He swiped a finger through the mess on Crowley’s chest like he was stealing icing off a cake and licked off Crowley’s seed.

“Angel, if you lick me clean I will spontaneously combust, and you’ll never see me again,” Crowley warned.

_Spoilsport._

Aziraphale sighed wistfully. “Oh well. Another time.”

With a snap the mess was cleaned up, Crowley’s wrists were freed, and the foam wedges were all put away. It was okay to rush through this part. The sooner Aziraphale could hold Crowley close after wringing him out the better. After a second thought Aziraphale miracled away his own clothes to replace them with soft pyjamas that would feel better on Crowley’s skin before he took his demon into his arms.

Azirphale kissed Crowley’s right wrist and then his left one each right at the pulse point.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” he asked softly as he settled back against the headboard.

“Good.” Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck. “You enjoy yourself?”

“Oh _yes_ , immensely so.” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s hair. “You know how much I enjoy you. Don’t worry about me.”

Crowley didn’t have anything to say to that. He just lifted his head to kiss chastely behind Aziraphale’s ear in return before snuggling back down into Aziraphale’s soft warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Maybe one day I'll write something that doesn't feature a needy, vulnerable Crowley, but today is not that day.


End file.
